


sleepless

by rosewrought



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cock Warming, Dom/sub, F/M, Illustrated, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Somnophilia, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewrought/pseuds/rosewrought
Summary: “I was thinking that maybe… I was thinking that maybe you could keep me nice and warm and that it might get you in a good headspace, help you relax enough to get some sleep.”Hana can't sleep. Lúcio helps.(written for F*ck the Payload: A Kinky Overwatch Anthology)





	sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally published in [F*ck the Payload: A Kinky Overwatch Anthology](https://twitter.com/OvwKinkZine). I was lucky enough to collaborate with [P-RO](https://twitter.com/nomorepros), whose wonderful art is featured below! 
> 
> A big thank you to [darkforetold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold) for beta reading!

For what seems like the thousandth time this evening, Hana rolls over onto her other side. She’s exhausted, totally drained from her dual responsibilities to Overwatch and her fans, burning the candle at both ends so that she can kick ass and still manage to squeeze a stream in, but she’s far too worked up, too anxious, to get to sleep. Beside her, Lúcio’s faring much better, snoring lightly with an arm thrown over his face. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t envious of him, of the way he can just switch off like a light while her brain goes into overdrive. She’s always had trouble sleeping, but since the war, it’s become nigh to impossible.

God, she’s so _tired_.

The position she’s lying in soon becomes uncomfortable and she flips again, this time so she’s facing her sleeping boyfriend. She’s surprised she hadn’t woken him with her incessant tossing and turning, truth be told, but Hana figures he’s used to much worse, what with the amount of time he’s undoubtedly spent on a tour bus.

Lúcio is so peaceful like this, his body pliant, his lovely face relaxed, and Hana is struck by the urge—an ache, really—to kiss him. It would be selfish of her to wake him, but she can’t stop herself, tenderly cupping his face and pressing their lips together, as if she were a puppet being controlled by some otherworldly force. She kisses him, gently at first, but with increasing desperation as he refuses to wake, her fingers clutching him tightly, until he’s sighing and his eyes are fluttering open and he blinks at her, her face so close to his own. Lúcio opens his mouth to her for just a moment, deepening the kiss before drawing away.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “You okay?”

Hana shrugs a little, looking away. “I can’t sleep.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs deeply, shuffling forward and burying her face in Lúcio’s chest. He holds her tight against him. “I just— My brain won’t turn off. I can’t stop thinking about _everything_ and I’m so tired, I just want to go to sleep.”

Lúcio hums thoughtfully, his long fingers raking through Hana’s hair. It feels nice, sends a little shiver through her body. She feels safe, as she always does with Lúcio. Safe and loved and home, here in their bed. Lúcio isn’t going to let anything bad happen to her.

“Do you wanna have sex?”

It takes Hana by surprise and she pulls away, blinking up at him dazedly before guilt settles in her belly like a stone. “Oh. No, it’s okay. I know you’re tired—” but Lúcio interrupts her, taking her hands gently in his own.

“I want to.” He pauses, before, “But maybe we could try something a little different.”

That makes Hana perk up. “Like what?” she asks, a slow, playful smile spreading across her face. Lúcio returns it tiredly.

“C’mon,” he says and tugs her out of bed, leading her out of the bedroom and into their living space. There, he takes a seat on the couch, though not before shucking his sweatpants and discarding them on the floor. He indicates the space on the ground between his knees and Hana settles there, greedy hands gripping muscular thighs. His lovely smile hasn’t wavered.

“I was thinking that maybe…” he hesitates, his own nervousness betrayed by the fingers that toy idly with Hana’s hair. “I was thinking that maybe you could keep me nice and warm and that it might get you in a good headspace, help you relax enough to get some sleep.”

Hana narrows her eyes up at him, nails raking down his thighs. “You mean, you want me to keep your dick warm,” she says, matter-of-factly. “With my mouth?”

“If you don’t want to, we can try something else. I just thought…” and he trails off, biting his lip, looking so anguished over the whole matter and it’s so cute.

“No,” Hana says, and leans up to place one more kiss against his mouth. “Let’s do it.”

And she sinks back down onto her knees, takes Lúcio’s soft dick in her hand and closes her mouth over it.

Lúcio’s breath comes out in an airy sigh. His hands cup the back of her head, holding just tightly enough that she can feel it, so that it sends sparks of heat skittering down her spine and gathering between her legs.

In the warmth of her mouth, Lúcio’s cock thickens slowly, twitching in time with his pulse. She draws back when it nudges the back of her throat, but Lúcio holds her steadily in place. Hana can’t help letting her eyes fall closed, moaning softly around his length as her mouth is filled; Hana loves sucking dick. There is nothing quite so satisfying as having a dick in her mouth, dragging someone to ruin with only her tongue—except maybe a quintuple kill. She takes him as deeply as she can while still being able to breathe comfortably and sits there, revelling in the weight of him on her tongue and the delicious, musky smell of his arousal.

It’s not the first time they’ve done something like this, not by far. When Hana is too worked up, too full of anxiety and dread and grief, Lúcio takes her gently by the hand and makes it all go away, at least for a little while. He’s so gentle with her, always pausing to make sure that she’s alright—perhaps too gentle with her, sometimes. But Hana is grateful. She loves Lúcio more than anything. He means the world to her.

At long last, Hana begins to relax. All of the tension bleeds from her body and she sags against Lúcio, using his strong legs to hold herself up. That curious, floaty feeling she loves so much hasn’t quite reached her yet, the grain of the carpet against her knees, the ache in her jaw still very much in her consciousness, but she feels better already. Or, she does until Lúcio’s hands drop from her head and her eyes fly open.

He’s fallen asleep, slumped against the back of the sofa, mouth slightly agape. Ordinarily, Hana would think it was cute, but not while she’s got his dick in her mouth.

She pulls off, releasing him with a wet noise and wiping her hand across her lips, before, tentatively, “Lúcio?”

He doesn’t stir and Hana whines. She’s being a brat, she knows that fully well; he’s exhausted, they both are, but this was his idea in the first place and she was just starting to feel so good—

Hana clambers to her feet to straddle Lúcio’s thighs, pressing gentle, wet kisses against his face. He’s out cold, she marvels, nosing up the line of his throat, kissing him everywhere she can reach. Lúcio makes a gurgling noise and Hana’s annoyance dissipates as she giggles—she can’t stay mad at him.

She’s about to climb off and return to their bedroom, where she can mess around and not disturb him, when an idea strikes her. Lúcio is still hard, his erection pinned between their bellies, wet from her mouth, and when she takes it in hand and gives a gentle stroke, Lúcio lets out the most wonderful soft sigh. Hana’s gaze darts up to see if this has woken him, but his eyes are still closed, face still slack. A sly grin spreads across Hana’s face.

Carefully, she slots herself into his lap and shifts the damp crotch of her panties aside. Hana holds Lúcio steady as she positions herself and sinks, very slowly, onto his dick.

When she’s seated firmly in his lap, Hana takes a moment to regain her composure. Lúcio fills her so well, his fat cock spreading her open so beautifully, and she has to take a few, steadying breaths to control her excitement. The pause gives Hana the opportunity to gaze at her boyfriend’s face, still sleeping peacefully, albeit with a slight quickening of his breathing. When Hana is satisfied that she’s calm enough to continue, she begins to roll her hips in slow, sensual movements.

She’s really only grinding on him, his dick slipping out a scant inch before being swallowed up once more by her body, but it has Lúcio parting his lips, letting out a tiny, soft moan that encourages Hana to increase her range of motion. She begins to ride him in earnest; her cunt makes filthy, wet sounds as she bounces on his dick.

It’s so good—Hana drops a hand to her throbbing clit and begins to rub herself through her underwear, and a moan falls unbidden from her mouth before she remembers to be quiet. She clasps her free hand over her mouth, hiding her grin, as Lúcio stirs, but doesn’t wake.

Lucky. She really doesn’t _want_ to wake him; she knows how tired he is, how hard he’s been working, and it’s selfish enough of her that she’s woken him once already. He’s too good to her, letting her have this, even when he’s bone tired, and she doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness.

But her orgasm sneaks up on her. She’s riding the edge of her pleasure, and then she’s coming, clamping down around Lúcio and moaning loudly from behind her hand. Pleasure washes over her, whiting out her vision, and it isn’t until it subsides, until she forces herself to relax, her limbs to unlock, that she realises that Lúcio is staring at her, blinking sleepily. Hana, panting, grins sheepishly—because what else is she to do?

He takes her in for a moment, her flushed face, her tousled hair, the hand between her legs, and she knows she must look a sight. But then his hands come up to rest lightly against her hips and he smiles.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

There’s no anger in his voice, just an infuriating kind of mild amusement that has her grinding her hips down—and Lúcio gasping in turn—for emphasis. He soothes a hand up her side, underneath her shirt.

“Warming your cock.”

Lúcio laughs.

She knows where this is going; she disobeyed him and she’ll be punished accordingly. He doesn’t need to say it.

_She_ doesn’t need to say that any attention is better than no attention.

The exploratory hand reaches her small breast, and Lúcio rolls her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Well?” he prompts. And Hana takes the hint.

She resumes riding him, her hands braced on his chest now, and he fondles her breast, the only real effort he’s making. Otherwise, Lúcio just leans back against the couch and watches her with hooded eyes, and Hana isn’t quite sure if he’s going to drift off again or not, which somehow makes this all even hotter.

She’s oversensitive, pulsing rhythmically around his dick, and judging by the soft, pleased noises Lúcio is making—gentle grunts, musical little moans that raise gooseflesh on Hana’s arms—he’s close. She redoubles her efforts, riding him harder, grinding her hips against his, doing everything she can to make him feel as good as possible.

And then he’s coming, arching off the sofa and thrusting deep inside of her. Hana can’t help letting out a long, gratified moan, dropping to sit in his lap to revel in that wonderful feeling of fullness for as long as she can. She rests her head against his chest, and, blindly, Lúcio lifts a hand to stroke through her tangled hair, to cradle her.

By the time Lúcio comes down, Hana is already dozing off.

She’s heavy in his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him in a position that must, somehow, be comfortable. He only lifts her to slip his soft cock out, and the last thing Hana registers before she’s asleep is Lúcio’s soft voice against her head, murmuring, “We can talk punishments tomorrow.”


End file.
